None of the group could have been more stunned than Nathan Brazil.

"Somehow I knew you'd wind up here" the creature continued.  "Sooner or later just about every old-timer does."

"You know me?" Brazil asked incredulously.

The creature laughed.  "Sure I do - and you know me, too, unless you've had one too many rejuves.  I know, had the same problem myself when I dropped through the Well.  Let's just say that people really change around here, and let it go at that.  If you'll follow me, I'll make you more comfortable and give you some orientation."  With that the creature uncoiled backward, then recoiled at a length about two meters back on the belt.  "Step aboard," it invited.

They looked at Brazil.  "I don't think we have much choice," he told them.  Then, noticing Hain's pistol still drawn and pointed, he said to the fat man: "Put that popgun away until we find out the lay of the land.  No use in getting popped yourself."

They stepped onto the belt, which started not when they boarded but only after the rail was given another slap by their alien host.  For the first time they could hear noise - giant blowers, it sounded like, echoing throughout the great hall.  The belt itself gave off its own steady electric hum.

"Do you - eat what we eat?" Hain called out to the creature.

The alien chuckled.  "No, not anymore, but, don't worry, no cannibals around, either.  At least, not Type Forty-ones like you.  But I think we can round up some food - some real food, maybe the first in everybody's except Nate's whole life."

They rode around three belts until they came to a platform much larger than the others.  Here the walls curved and twisted away from the Well.  Brazil could see why the configuration hadn't been visible from afar.

Then they followed the snakeman - no mean trick, they found, with its enormous serpentine body - down a long corridor.  They saw other corridors branching off, but they traveled over a thousand meters before they took one.

It led into a very large room set up something like a reception area.  Comfortable, human-style chairs with plush cushions abounded, and a plastic wall covering was decorated with flowers.  Here, such amenities seemed as incongruous as the alien would seem to their worlds.  The creature had a sort of desk, semicircular in shape and seemingly form-fitted for him to coil comfortably behind.  It held only a very ordinary-looking pen, a small pad of paper, and a seal - hexagonal of course - seemingly solid gold cast in clear plastic.  The seal featured a snake coiled around a great cross, and it had a superscription around the edges in a script unfamiliar to any of them.

The snakeman lifted up a small part of his desk top to reveal an instrument panel underneath of unfamiliar design and purpose.  A large red button was most prominent, and he pushed it.